


You're Covered in the Colors

by TrashQueenOfficial



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: M/M, Synesthesia, fluffy af so beware, that slow burn life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2015-09-13
Packaged: 2018-04-20 14:47:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4791293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrashQueenOfficial/pseuds/TrashQueenOfficial
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roman's synesthesia and Dean don't mix, or at least not at first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Covered in the Colors

        Roman hated Dean at first. Mainly because the combination of the dirty blond and his synesthesia made for his very own continuous laser light show. Dean was essentially a box of crayons dumped out upon a carpet and being used at random, and it was increasingly annoying compared to the constant of Seth's mint green and the crowds glowing silvery-blue. When Roman first met Dean, his first introduction with that full glorious dimple ridden smile, his voice was a soft peachy color. One of Roman’s favorites if he could be honest, he wouldn't. Then he heard him speak in the crowd, or he saw old promos, and Deans colors would flicker and change to a dark green or a bright red, it was even a thick metallic copper at one point. Dean's colors bubbled and changed with his mood, which angered Roman(and his neurologist) because he's not a fucking mood ring god damn it. No one else's colors changed, his family stayed a soft warm yellow, Seth stayed that comforting green, and his alarm clock was always a bright neon orange. 

        Seth changed eventually too, mint darkening into a revolting thick myrtle green. The betrayal had changed his voice and the way Roman felt about green, and after months of an angry red Deans color faded into a gray blue, when he was there that is. Dean liked to run away a lot after Seth ran. He would come back knuckles bloody and black eyed. The makeup crew had a fun time with all his bruises, they were already trying to figure out how to hide scars from his CZW days.

        And Roman liked to pretend that he didn’t know much about Dean but he knew a lot actually. He couldn’t figure Dean out at first so he went to Seth, and when the man went into NXT under a new name, he asked Sami. Sami told him the stories of Dean’s high school days, a cigarette in his mouth and a new bruise every week, and god Roman could picture it. Dean surrounded by a thick pulsing gray as he kept his head down and tried to avoid getting noticed. He could picture Seth’s early days Dean as well. How Dean couldn’t trust his own shadow , always ready for a fight and foul mouthed. It fit in with the Dean he had grown to fall in love with. The stories mixed and meshed with what he knew, forming that peachy color all over again. That’s when Roman realized he was in love, and he cursed himself for falling for someone so difficult. But he knew he wouldn’t have Dean any other way.

        So he made an effort. He tried to catch up to Dean and keep him in the hotel rooms with him, and it didn’t work. It wasn’t until after the cinderblock incident that Roman could be anywhere with Dean for more than an hour. Dean had a concussion and was loopy out of his mind, mumbling softly and clinging to Roman’s arm as they stumbled into the hotel room. At that moment Dean was a soft baby blue, like small children always were.

        “I’m probably gonna regret this when you’re level headed, but I love you.” The words just tumbled out of his mouth. He could hear Dean flat out giggle and he nearly exploded. It was adorable, an adjective that never went along with Dean’s scruffy nature.

        “Please Romeo,” Dean stopped to giggle again as Roman sat him on the couch, “ I’ve had some weird crush on you since FCW don’t worry about it.” Dean waved him off as he flopped back onto the couch, pulling his feet up so he could lay down on it. He still had cinder block dust in his hair, and a nasty bruise was forming on the right side of his face. And against his better judgement, Roman pulled him in for a kiss and mumbled that he was supposed to be resting not running his mouth.

        Dean didn’t really remember that kiss. Or much from that actually. The pain medication he was on as well as the concussion made everything way too fuzzy for him to even attempt to remember it. For some reason he just felt he should be around his best friend more often. So he actually stayed at the hotel while he recovered. He didn’t go out and pick fights like he had been, he wasn’t self destructing anymore like he had been. Dean was good, for the first time in awhile. Roman could tell, and he was hoping that Dean’s warm marigold happiness would last. He knew it wouldn’t. Roman had been toting around Dean’s medications since the shield started and Seth realized that he could actually get Dean to take them. There were pills for his anxiety, his depression, his ADHD, and insomnia pills that Dean flat out refused to take. Roman let him skip them, even though he knew Dean would be up till three in the morning, he didn’t like the way Dean looked the mornings after he took them. He looked even more tired than nights when he wouldn’t sleep, and his colors were so pale they were barely even there.

         Eventually Dean’s feud with Seth ended, but not as either of them had hoped. Bray had been lurking on Dean backstage for awhile now. Roman wasn’t shocked that it happened, he knew Bray would do something wild to rile Dean up. He started spilling Dean’s secrets, watching as they spread like thick black tar across the locker room and how many of their co-workers “giving him space.” That’s when Roman made an actual move, sick of seeing Dean looking at him like he was going next.

         It was after Bray had mentioned Dean’s father for the millionth time, and Roman had enough of it. Dean’s childhood was horrible enough by itself without being dragged back to the surface by that fedora wearing asshole who was that horrendous shade of chartruese. He thought it was a fucking low blow, and he made sure that Dean knew his opinion on the matter.

        “Well at least they censor him, it’s not like in the indies with Jacobs or anything. The most he can bring up is my parents and my gutter rat teenage days.” The dirty blond shrugged, pacing the length of the room in front of Roman, who grabbed his wrist so that Dean could face him. The samoan grabbed both of Dean's wrist, slipping his hands into the blonds and frowning when Dean winced at the kind contact. Everything about Dean was periwinkle at the moment, sliding down from a navy blue to the soft comforting color.

        “You shouldn’t have to deal with any of it. He doesn’t have the right.” Roman started peeling the tape off Dean’s wrist, smoothing his thumb over the slightly irritated skin of the blond’s inner wrist and knuckles.

        “But he does, I signed that thing remember?” Dean always let the company base his feuds and promos off his childhood, he did it in the indies and saw no reason not to do it in the wwe. It always irked Roman how his best friend could just let people use his past like that.

       “I do, and I hate it. That backwoods douche has no right to be talking to you,” Roman thought for a moment, “You know how my synesthesia works right?” Dean nodded.

       “Every person is associated with a color right? Like a color coded index of people.” the samoan couldn’t help but smile at that.

       “Yeah. But you, for some goddamn reason, are like a fucking collideascope. Your color is always changing.”

       “Oh really?”

       “Yeah really you fucker,” Roman pulled Dean closer, until the blond was standing between his legs, “Like my own personal light show, it’s beautiful.” And before the blond could protest that he was NOT beautiful, Roman tugged him down so he could steal a kiss. When he pulled away he was more than satisfied with what he saw. Dean's mouth was moving similar to a goldfish, and he was flushed from shock.

       “Did you? did you just?”

       “I did.” Roman’s grin wider before he pulled his friend down for another kiss.

       “Wait wait what does this mean?”

       “It means I love you, you big idiot.” He watched the idea of someone actually loving Dean back wash over the blond. And he was happy with what he saw as Dean climbed into his lap, grabbing two fistfuls of his t-shirt and crashing their mouths together.

       Roman eventually talked Dean into moving in with him in Florida, packing up the blond’s near empty apartment in between Nevada house shows.  Roman rented a u-haul rather than trying to shove it all in the back of his rental car.

       “Jimmy’s gonna drive down my car right?” Dean was putting the last box inside the truck. He had taken to grumbling about the move, although he was bathing in that bright marigold color again. And god was that pure unfiltered happiness fucking contagious.

       “Yep, him and Naomi returned their rental the other day.” His cousin Jimmy and his wife’s hotel was only about three blocks from Dean’s house, they could easily come and get the car later.

       “You ready to hit the road tiger?” Instead of answering Roman, Dean just climbed into the truck and strapped himself in.

       “You turn off everything? Do you have everything? Return the key to the landlord?”

       “Yes mother holy shit.” Roman ruffled his hair, and pulled out of Dean’s driveway, ignoring the stiff punch to his shoulder.

        When you move in with a person you learn a lot of new things. Roman learned that Dean played volleyball religiously, and looked for a local league before even agreeing to move to Pensacola. He learned that Dean was extremely clean to live with, when he rather thought the opposite, and that Dean liked hot chocolate on rainy days, hated loud noises, and was a big baby when stressed. Dean learned that Roman loves to paint. In between touring, training, and volleyball Dean would pull a blanket down into the basement and curl up on the small couch there, watching Roman paint.

        Dean had tried to paint himself, but he knew he was horrible at it. Art just wasn't his forte. He did it anyway though, just to spend time with Roman. His paintings closer resembles something you would find in a kindergarten class rather than Roman’s beautiful landscapes and floral pieces. They got hung on the fridge anyway, and the two of them would laugh at the painting until it got replaced with a new one.

       It was a sunny day sometime after they had gotten married that Roman had decided paper wasn’t what he wanted to paint on anymore. Dean was at practice still, so Roman ran to his nearest art supply store, buying several tubes of skin safe paint, even some body paints he had found stashed under half off water color pallets and copic markers from brands that no longer existed.

        By the time he got home Dean was already showering, his backpack tucked in a corner and sweaty clothes probably in the hamper next to the washer. Roman knocked on the door, opening it and stepping back as steam rushed into the room.

        “What do you want old man?”

        “I’m only a year older than you, you asshole,” Roman could practically hear Dean grinning, “I just wanted to tell you not to put a shirt on when you get out of the shower, not that you ever do you heathen. And to make sure you’re dry.”

        “Nah I’m gonna lay around the house dripping wet.” Roman just rolled his eyes and closed the bathroom door, once again trapping all the steam from Dean’s molten lava like shower.

        He was just finished setting up when Dean began stomping his way down the stairs, dry and shirtless as Roman asked. It even looked as if the blond had blow dried his hair.

        “Now what was this about?: Dean flopped down on his couch.

        “I want to paint, on you I mean.” Roman waved the tube around and pointed on the extra chair he had brought down for emphasis. Dean just smirked, way too happy to oblige Roman in his request. The blond was probably already scheming up ways to turn this whole thing into a giant mess.

        Once Dean got settled into his chair Roman got straight to work, deciding to paint a bright sunset on Dean’s back. He used all the colors he liked best on Dean, that peach, Dean’s happy marigold, a nice turquoise for the water, and oranges and reds to blend it together and form the sun. It was awhile before it was done, and Roman is pretty sure Dean fell asleep in the chair at some point. Eager to show his husband his work, Roman snapped a picture of Dean’s back and showed it to him.

        “Its beautiful.” Dean leaned in for a kiss, before smacking his hand against Roman’s cheek, splattering a soft purple paint Roman had set out and never used all over the samoan’s face.

        “Oh that’s it you fucking monster.” Roman filled his hand with a bright green paint and slapped it right onto Dean’s chest, and a paint war broke out.  The two dipping their hands into paints and getting it onto the other in any way possible. At one point while Roman was filling his hands with a glitter filled gold he had felt Dean shove a handful of bright pink paint down his shorts. Somehow, they had started kissing, the colors on their fronts muddying as they mixed together.

        “You are a terror you know that? Why did I even marry you?” Roman laughed out between kisses.

        “If I can quote you correctly, you said I was your own personal northern lights and that you thought I was beautiful.” Dean was drawing little squiggles in the paint on Roman’s arms.

        “I said you were a light show excuse me but do you ever listen?” Roman made an exaggerated face of disgust, to which Dean rolled his eyes and slapped a salmon colored handprint over all the paint on Roman’s chest.

        “Same thing.”

       “Not really, you did get the beautiful part right. Now let's get you cleaned up, you’re a mess.”

       “Yeah but I’m your mess. Forever.” Dean pointed to the ring on his finger with a smirk.

        “Yeah forever you asshole.” And Roman didn’t mind that one bit.


End file.
